


Ouroboros

by violetnyte



Series: Lethe [2]
Category: Starfighter (Comic), Starfighter Eclipse
Genre: Choose Your Own Adventure, Daily Life on the Sleipnir, Dorks in Love, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Slice of Life, Using Appropriate Amounts of Lube, You Have Only Yourself to Blame, inappropriate lube substitutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 02:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 47
Words: 12,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19416385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetnyte/pseuds/violetnyte
Summary: It's a perfectly ordinary day on the Sleipnir... or is it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a true Choose Your Own Adventure fic! Don't try to read the chapters in sequential order as the story will not make sense. You will need to navigate between the chapters depending on the choices you make. 
> 
> Much thanks to prisma for cheerleading me through this brutal speed-run endeavor <3
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: As this is a theme week fic, there are some chapters that may not yet be posted and are thus unavailable at this time.

The quiet rush of the shower formed his alarm clock, as it did most days. It was only on rare occasions that Praxis woke in time to catch Deimos sleeping. Even rarer were the mornings Deimos woke him, unintending, with the slim and graceful glide of fingers on bare skin. Once, not too many days ago, came a morning where those same touches were delivered with devilish, smoldering intent to wake him. Of all his many days spent aboard the Sleipnir, that one stood out as one of the best. 

As Praxis extricated himself from the narrow bottom bunk, creaks and shuffling greeted him from the top bunk. Sock-clad feet appeared on the ladder rungs followed by white pant legs, a crisp white jacket, and a snow-blond riot of bedhead curls still damp from the shower.

“Morning,” said Praxis. 

“Hmhmm,” came the reply. Ethos didn’t glance up from his tablet screen. He crossed the small room and placed the tablet atop the dresser to better keep an eye on it while shoving into his boots.

Doubtless the tablet screen contained something related to the battle last week, the wreckage they’d salvaged from the aftermath. Ethos had been obsessed with it for days. Praxis adjusted his eye patch into place before checking the time on their room’s control panel. Not much of the morning remained to him, unfortunately. 

* * *

**Get dressed quickly to avoid being late, go to CHAPTER 34**

**Talk to Ethos, go to CHAPTER 10**

**Join Deimos in the shower, go to CHAPTER 24**


	2. Chapter 2

Down in the mess hall, long benches housed the steady stream of soldiers coming in to load trays with shapeless, tasteless, nutritionally-balanced meal selections. Ethos claimed to know someone who knew someone that worked in the kitchens, harvesting and processing the algae vat production into semi-edible substances. Praxis hadn’t wanted the details, really. 

Once his tray consisted of a squarish bowl of beige lumps dotted by blue and red circles, Praxis stepped to the side to survey the open seats. He spotted Deimos already settling into place across from Cain, as usual. Across the mess hall, Ethos sat alone at an empty table. 

* * *

**Sit with Cain and Deimos, go to CHAPTER 45**

**Sit with Ethos, go to CHAPTER 42**

**Sit alone, go to CHAPTER 43**


	3. Chapter 3

Praxis squeezed into the shower alongside Deimos. Delightfully warm water beat against his shoulders and back, but more enjoyable than the feel of clean water was Deimos’ hands circling his waist, Deimos’ lips seeking his. Praxis braced a hand to the wall as he took up more of Deimos’ slight weight.

After several soapy minutes of strenuous making out, the water had run cold but things between them had grown hot. Praxis ran a hand along Deimos’ back to feel the water-slicked planes and indentations, each singular square inch of perfection. Their lips met again in a hungry crush, as if they didn’t have all the time in the world to indulge. Which, unfortunately, was the truth -- a full day of duty and obligation awaited them both. 

Their stolen moment needed to find resolution so they could finish readying for the day, and Praxis was all too eager to address the pressing matters at hand. 

* * *

**Finish with a handjob, go to CHAPTER 41**

**Finish with a blowjob, go to CHAPTER 28**


	4. Chapter 4

Rather than bother the Lead Navigator, Praxis headed for the mess hall to appease his hunger. He strode along the corridor toward the lift with his thoughts still entangled at worries over Ethos. Surely he was just letting his worry-wart nature get the better of him, though. 

Supporting this fact was the sight of the very navigator he was worried about, just ahead waiting for the lift. Face still buried in his tablet, back turned but utterly unmistakably. Praxis quickened his stride. “Ethos!” he called. 

Ethos lifted his snowy head of curls. At the same moment, a fighter barreled into him from seemingly out of nowhere. The two of them tumbled across the hallway floor in a spill of limbs and yelps. The tablet hit the ground and went sliding. 

Praxis broke into a hasty jog. “Ethos!”

Already the fighter was scrambling to get up. “Sorry! Oh, damn. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Ethos crawled to snag his tablet. “Yeah.” 

Praxis arrived on scene to help Ethos to his feet. He hooked a hand under the navigator’s elbow to help steady him on the way up from the floor. 

“Oh, man.” The fighter crushed his fingers into the thick black crown of his undercut. “Oh, man. You’re not Selene.”

The lift arrived at that moment, its doors gliding open in silent invitation to flee the scene. Praxis might not know all the task names assigned to every fighter on the Sleipnir, but he felt decently assured he knew their faces. This young man was a complete stranger to him, and that put Praxis on edge. 

* * *

**Get into the lift with Ethos, go to CHAPTER 9**

**Demand the fighter’s identity, go to CHAPTER 18**


	5. Chapter 5

Upon reaching the mess hall, Praxis was dismayed to find his prediction about the biovats had been on the mark. The machine whined piteously before depositing a largely unappetizing meal on to his plate. 

Praxis slid his tray to the end and grabbed a few utensils. He followed Deimos over to one of the empty tables and settled on to the bench. “Not much of a lunch, huh? Looks better than breakfast, at least,” he said. 

Deimos shrugged for his reply, and they ate in companionable silence after that. As they ate, Praxis became uncomfortably aware of his own cock. Not in that awkward inappropriate erection kind of way, but rather a warm-skin sensation. He shifted on the bench and noticed Deimos squirming just the same like suffering an unscratchable itch. 

Praxis bit at his lip as the hot, itchy feeling became worse. Covertly he rubbed at the crotch of his uniform pants in hopes of relieving some of the discomfort. “Nng, Deimos, does your --?”

Deimos gave a quick, frantic nod. His jaw clenched as his eyes closed briefly. He nodded again. 

Praxix hastily rose from the bench. “Shower.” The word spilled from him in desperation. “Shower, we both need a shower. Come on --”

Deimos needed nothing more than that to be on his feet, tray in hand. He all but bolted to the sanitizer and tossed his half-eaten lunch on to the loading belt. Praxis followed, and the two of them fast-walked for the lift. 

“A shower will help.” Praxis said this more to reassuring himself than anything. “A shower will -- for fuck’s sake, hurry!” 

Yelling at the lift would not make it arrive any faster. When it did arrive, he was heavily dismayed to see a trio of chattering navigators occupying it. Praxis stared at the corner of the ceiling and tried to clear his thoughts, tried to think of anything other than the fiery reprimand scalding his dick with the painful lesson not use strange lubricants. 

Fortunately the shower did help things. They shared one, perfectly chaste, nothing pleasurable at all to found in the frantic back and forth swap of the spray and plentiful amounts of soap. By unspoken agreement they both knew they’d never speak of this again. There was no dignity to be found in what it took for them to get cleaned inside and out. 

Afterward they lay in Praxis’ bottom bunk barely touching, worn out and exhausted from the terror of the near-miss with visiting the medbay. Praxis would have gone, would have dragged Deimos kicking and shrieking if needed, but he was infinitely pleased not to have to suffer that indignity on top of the rest.

It was only later, much later, eyes closed and nearly asleep, that Praxis remembered that he hadn’t seen Ethos since breakfast. No matter, he reassured himself. Ethos was supremely talented at sneaking into the room at odd hours without waking him. Surely Praxis would wake in the morning to find Ethos there as usual and none the wiser for what had happened. 

* * *

**Return to CHAPTER 1**


	6. Chapter 6

Praxis spent the next couple hours diligently working on the ship. Without Ethos there to help crosscheck and run cables the work took twice as long, but Praxis didn’t mind. He didn’t mind either that it was hard work, sweaty and greasy, so that when he was done he didn’t know why he’d bothered to shower at all after physical training. 

Praxis wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and surveyed the Tiberius. He still needed Ethos to give the final okay, but he felt reasonably certain the modifications he’d made were sound and stable. Strange that Ethos hadn’t joined him, but then again the hanger was starting to empty out as teams paused their work to break for lunch. Ethos must have simply been tied up after the navigator briefing. It wasn’t a completely out of the ordinary occurrence. 

On cue his stomach grumbled eagerly at the suggestion of a meal. Praxis looked over at the Equinox to see Deimos and Phobos winding their work down as well. Sometimes the two of them would work straight through lunch, eating something grab-and-go out of the neighboring maintenance canteen. For all they seemed a radically dysfunctional pair, Praxis had to admit that the Equinox’s navigator and fighter were both equally dedicated. As he watched, first Deimos and then Phobos began to leave the hanger bay. 

* * *

**Walk with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 29**

**Don’t bother, go to CHAPTER 25**


	7. Chapter 7

Praxis studied the downcast curve of his navigator’s face for a moment. He nodded at Deimos, a silent way of saying they’d meet up later. Deimos nodded back and quietly slipped from the room. 

“Hey.” Praxis set a reassuring hand on Ethos’ slim shoulder. “Keeler wouldn’t have put you in charge of this if he didn’t think you were capable of it.”

Ethos frowned in such a way each pale freckle seemed to scrunch. “Or he wants me out of the way. Everyone else is disassembling the weapons system or parsing the ship’s navigational log.” 

After a few encouraging pats, Praxis let his hand drop from Ethos’ shoulder. “Well, no, I’m sure this is just as important as all that.”

“Yeah.” Ethos lifted the forlorn weight of his expression and cleared it with a smile. “Yeah. You’re right. Maybe there’s something useful in this. I’ll keep working at it. Thanks, Praxis.”

* * *

**Leave to eat breakfast, go to CHAPTER 2**


	8. Chapter 8

After the briefing rundown, Encke tasked them with running laps. Sometimes Praxis adjusted his long-legged gait to keep pace with Deimos, sometimes he liked to trail behind Deimos and simply watch him. It often depended on Deimos’ expression, if he looked lost in thought or singularly focused. On the focused days, Praxis found it easier to lag behind Deimos rather than try keeping pace with his swift, sleek jog. That particular day Deimos moved with lazy contentment, and Praxis enjoyed the quiet companionship between them as they ran Encke’s ordered laps. 

As usual, Cain took off like the whole thing was a race. Often he made it one, challenging whoever who would take his goading boasts seriously. When Cain lapped past them he shouted taunts that Praxis steadfastly ignored. 

”Show some hustle, cyclops!”

One day, Praxis was going to accidentally trip Cain. The wicked thought of doing so carried him through the final breathless, muscle-burning lap. 

“Hit the showers and report to your navigators!” Encke barked. 

Deimos ran a wash towel over his face to clear it of sweat. He caught Praxis’ eye and glimmered a secretive nothing of a smile before turning and walking for the showers. 

* * *

**Shower with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 31**

**Shower alone, go to CHAPTER 20**


	9. Chapter 9

Praxis gently pushed Ethos into the lift. “We have somewhere we need to be.” He jabbed the  _ door close _ button repeatedly. 

“Wait!” The fighter wedged himself forward before the lift doors could shut. “Wait! You have to help me. I need to find Selene.”

Praxis shifted to put Ethos fully behind him. Unfortunately the physical barrier couldn’t stop Ethos from piping up politely with, “Who’s Selene?”

“My navigator,” the fighter replied. “I can’t believe we got separated. Something must have happened to him.” The young man gave his uniform pockets a frantic pat down. “Oh, man, I must have dropped the tuner! We have to go back!” He lunged for the control panel, but Praxis checked him with an out thrust hand. 

“Praxis,” Ethos chided softly. He tugged at the blocking wall of Praxis’ arm. “Don’t be rude.”

Reluctantly Praxis pulled his hand away. The strange fighter reached the lift controls and reversed their slow descent through the depths of the ship. 

Ethos slipped around the barrier of Praxis’ arm. “I’m Ethos, and this is Praxis. What’s your --?”

“Did you say Ethos?” The young man peered at him critically. “Your task name is Ethos?”

“He asked you a question,” Praxis interrupted. “Who are you?”

“I’m Helios,” the fighter said. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you! I have to tell Selene I found you. You have to come with me!”

“We’re not going anywhere with you,” Praxis said stiffly. 

The lift doors opened back at the hanger bay corridor. Standing there with his back to them was a navigator a glossy white flight suit. He whirled as the lift arrived, the silk-fine fall of his ombre bob suspending in air with the moment. “Helios!”

“Selene!” The strange fighter rushed out of the lift. Despite his partner being a little taller than average for a navigator, Helios scooped him up easily into a fierce mid-air suspended hug. The navigator’s boots dangled a few inches shy of the floor. “I thought I’d lost you!”

A pinkish blush bloomed beneath the russet tones of the navigator’s cheeks. “You did lose me. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Praxis considered this an excellent time to try fleeing again, because he truly wanted no part of this. Unfortunately Ethos was already out of the lift and moving toward the reunited partners. Praxis had no choice but to leave the lift and find out what fresh trouble had befallen them. 

* * *

**Go to CHAPTER 47**


	10. Chapter 10

Praxis moved up next to the dresser just as Ethos turned aside. “Any luck with it?”

“Hm?” Ethos glanced up from the tablet screen. “Oh, Praxis. Good morning.”

Praxis nodded at the tablet held in his navigator’s hand. “I asked if you were having any luck with that.”

“Oh, decoding the message from the Colteron ship’s black box? No, not really… A little, I guess. I’m closer than I was yesterday. I know it’s a polyalphabetic substitution cipher, which is a start.”

Praxis nodded in the way he often did when listening to Ethos. “You’ll figure it out in no time,” he said. 

Ethos frowned softly. “Keeler’s really been after me on it. I’m supposed to be good at this sort of thing, you know?” 

“You are good at it.” Praxis turned away to begin getting dressed. “Look how much progress you’ve made already.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Ethos looked back down at his tablet. 

The door to the bathroom slid open to reveal Deimos, dressed and ready for the day. 

* * *

**Keep talking to Ethos, go to CHAPTER 7**

**Leave with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 32**


	11. Chapter 11

Despite his idle concern about Ethos’ whereabouts, Praxis knew that his own responsibilities came first. If they were caught unaware by the enemy, he needed to be ready. Their safety and survival depended on it. 

Praxis spent the next couple hours diligently working on the ship. Without Ethos there to help crosscheck and run cables the work took twice as long, but Praxis didn’t mind. He didn’t mind either that it was hard work, sweaty and greasy, so that when he was done he didn’t know why he’d bothered to shower at all after physical training. 

Praxis wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and surveyed the Tiberius. He still needed Ethos to give the final okay, but he felt reasonably certain the modifications he’d made were sound and stable. Strange that Ethos hadn’t joined him yet, but then again the hanger was starting to empty out as teams paused their work to break for lunch. 

On cue his stomach grumbled eagerly at the suggestion of a meal. However, as he started to leave, Praxis noticed Encke and Keeler standing beneath the Drache talking. He hadn’t seen them earlier. Perhaps Keeler knew where Ethos had gone after the briefing. Keeler very well could have been delayed coming to work on his ship because of Ethos, after all. 

* * *

**Eat lunch, go to CHAPTER 4**

**Ask Keeler about Ethos, go to CHAPTER 13**


	12. Chapter 12

“Sure,” Praxis said. “What do you need me to do?”

“Help Deimos and start screaming if anything catches fire.” Phobos ducked out of view. “Try the green cable to the blue one now!”

Praxis stepped up beside Deimos and surveyed the rat’s nest of wires exposed by the open ship panel. “There’s two blue ones,” he called up to Phobos.

“Pick one!” came the reply. 

Praxis spent the next couple hours working in tandem with Phobos and Deimos. It was nice, in a way, to casually brush elbows with Deimos or let their fingers touch with idle affection. Not even Phobos’ continual bossy orders could detract from the simple pleasure of spending any amount of time with Deimos like this. 

Praxis wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and surveyed the Equinox as Phobos climbed down from the cockpit. There was still work needed on the Tiberius, but plenty of the day remained to him. Perhaps at lunch he’d find Ethos and they could do the work together. 

On cue his stomach rumbled a hungry demand. If they didn’t hurry, the biovats would be serving up the bottom dregs of the prepared mixed mush of a meal waiting for them in the mess hall. Already Deimos was striding in that direction, Phobos hot on his heels. 

* * *

**Walk with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 29**

**Don’t bother, go to CHAPTER 25**


	13. Chapter 13

As Praxis approached the Drache, Encke and Keeler took note of him. They stopped talking at once, in that abrupt sharing secrets kind of way that made him feel absurdly guilty for interrupting. Praxis offered them a sheepish smile, but Encke’s half-narrowed stern glare didn’t waver. 

Keeler, in contrast, was all soft smiles. “Hello, Praxis. Did you need something?” He spoke politely enough, but a thin undercurrent of strained patience colored the niceties. 

Praxis decided to get right to the point. “I’m looking for Ethos. Have you seen him?”

A slight pluck of concern flicked at Keeler’s pale brow. “Yes, of course. Just a few moments ago. He’s in the lab working. Why? Is everything all right?”

Sudden relief washed through Praxis, and the strength of his relief made him feel quite foolish. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine, sorry. I just … there’s some work to do, on the Tiberius.” He gestured at the ship, as if that might help alleviate the awkwardness. 

Keeler nodded slowly. “Yes, I see… Well. What I have Ethos working on is very important. Perhaps I could help you with the Tiberius, however.”

Encke shifted. “Keeler, do you think --”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Keeler broke in heavily, his soft-smiling effervescence as effective as a slap to quiet the Lead Fighter’s objections. 

* * *

**Accept Keeler’s help, go to CHAPTER 21**

**Decline his help, go to CHAPTER 27**


	14. Chapter 14

Deimos was just settling on to one of the benches at an empty table, and Praxis seized on the opportunity. Deimos glanced up as Praxis joined him at the table. He scooted some to make room even though there was plenty, but Praxis understood that was just Deimos’ way of welcoming him.

“Not much of a lunch, huh? Looks better than breakfast, at least,” said Praxis. 

Deimos shrugged for his reply, and they ate in companionable silence after that. When finished, they cleared their trays into the sanitizer. 

“Are you going to the sim room?” Praxis asked. Deimos nodded. “Okay. Good luck, then. If you see Ethos, tell him I’ll be at the ship.” 

Deimos nodded again, and they parted ways. Praxis returned to the almost-empty hanger bay. He half-expected to see Ethos at the Tiberius, but he had no such luck. Regardless of wherever his navigator might be, Praxis had enough to keep himself busy for the remainder of the day and well into the night. 

It was only later, much later, lying in his bottom bunk with a drowsy Deimos settled against his side, that Praxis started to grow unduly concerned. It simply wasn’t possible for Ethos to have gone entirely missing, however. He might have made headway on the translation project Keeler assigned him and was simply tied up in the navigator lab. 

This wouldn’t be the first night that Praxis fell asleep with the top bunk empty and woke to find Ethos tucked away into it as normal. Ethos was supremely talented at sneaking into the room at odd hours without waking him, or perhaps it was just that Praxis slept so deeply a marching band could sneak in without his noticing. Praxis reassured the doubtful little voice of worry inside himself that Ethos would be there in the morning and there was nothing to be concerned about. 

* * *

**Return to CHAPTER 1**


	15. Chapter 15

Praxis shook his head slightly with a smile. Even though Deimos’ easy shrug of acceptance meant he didn’t need an explanation, he felt obligated to give one anyway. “I’m so hungry right now, I’d be likely to take a bite out of your shoulder.”

Deimos’ smile sharpened into utter wickedness. He pointedly arched a brow as if to say he wasn’t opposed to the idea. 

Praxis laughed and tugged Deimos gently by the arm. “All right, all right. That wasn’t a suggestion, you know!”

“Pity,” Deimos hushed. The rare rasp of his seldom used voice sent bubbling thrills through Praxis, and all at once he regretted his previous refusal of a furtive detour. Praxis swallowed the urge to yank Deimos into the wall and kiss him soundly, kiss him thoroughly, kiss him all over in a hundred secret ways. Another time, then, in another place.

* * *

**Proceed to the mess hall, CHAPTER 22**


	16. Chapter 16

It only took a small adjustment to bring the soft curve of Deimos’ mouth into kissing distance. Deimos watched him, sly and aloof, receptive and waiting, perfectly enigmatic with his small smiles and knowing looks. Praxis hesitated a moment, an invitation for rejection, before completing the gesture. Their lips met, soft as a sigh. 

Praxis knew he could kiss Deimos a thousand times and still be thrilled all over again at each one as if it were the first. Perhaps he’d already kissed Deimos a thousand times, in a hundred ways, in dozens of secret places. It wasn’t as if he kept count. Maybe he should start, to better remember each one. 

This particular kiss was slow and savoring, languorous and satisfying in bittersweet ways that left Praxis wishing, as always, they had more time for such things. Reluctantly he parted from Deimos and resumed getting dressed so they could leave to meet with their navigators as Encke ordered. 

* * *

**Proceed to the hanger bay, go to CHAPTER 6**


	17. Chapter 17

Much as Praxis wanted to indulge in all the gently-wicked temptation Deimos offered, it was more prudent to refrain. Anyone could walk in on them to create an awkward situation. Although they certainly weren’t trying to keep their relationship secret, neither of them especially wanted to advertise it either. 

He dressed quickly into his uniform and tossed his used towel into the laundry bin for collection. “Have you much work to do on the Equinox?” 

Deimos glanced up from where he bent over his boots. He jammed one into place before giving Praxis a slight shrug. 

“I have some to do on the Tiberius.”

Deimos nodded amicably, attention focused with an absent kind of smile, one of the ones that indicated he was listening but had nothing to say. It was another of Praxis’ favorite, that almost nothing of curved lips and softened gaze. 

“Better get to it,” Praxis said. “I’ll see you after?”

Deimos nodded again, and they left together for the hanger bay. 

* * *

**Proceed to the hanger bay, go to CHAPTER 6**


	18. Chapter 18

“Who are you?” Praxis demanded. “I don’t recognize you.”

“I’m Helios,” the fighter replied. “Will you help me find Selene? I can’t believe we got separated. Something must have happened to him.” The young man patted down his uniform pockets, first slowly and then with frantic haste. “The tuner! Oh, man, where is --? I must have dropped it.”

“What’s it look like?” Ethos asked. “Maybe we can help you find it.”

“Thanks,” Helios said. “Um, who are you?”

“I’m Ethos, and this is Praxis.”

Helios looked up from his thorough search of the floor. “Ethos? Your task name is Ethos? We’ve been looking for you!”

Praxis decidedly did not like the sound of that. He moved closer to Ethos. “Where did you come from? I don’t recognize --”

A fourth person joined them in the corridor. Somehow, from somewhere, seemingly from thin air, a navigator in a white, sleek flight suit appeared in the very corner of Praxis’ limited field of vision. He flinched, but Ethos full-out yelped in surprise. 

“Helios!” gasped the navigator. 

“Selene!” Despite his partner being a little taller than average for a navigator, Helios scooped him up easily into a fierce mid-air suspended hug. The navigator’s boots dangled a few inches shy of the floor. “I thought I’d lost you!”

A pinkish blush bloomed beneath the russet tones of the navigator’s cheeks. “You did lose me. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

* * *

**Go to CHAPTER 47**


	19. Chapter 19

“Sorry, I’ve got a lot to do.” Praxis nodded his head in the direction of the Tiberius. “It’s why I was looking for Ethos. If you see him, point him my way?”

Phobos flapped a dismissive hand at him. “Sure, sure. Whatever.”

More reassuring was the way Deimos caught his eye and nodded once, firm and resolute, to indicate he’d be certain to pass along the message. Praxis thanked him with a slight smile before returning to the Tiberius. 

Praxis spent the next couple hours diligently working on the ship. Without Ethos there to help crosscheck and run cables the work took twice as long, but Praxis didn’t mind. He didn’t mind either that it was hard work, sweaty and greasy, so that when he was done he didn’t know why he’d bothered to shower at all after physical training. 

Praxis wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and surveyed the Tiberius. He still needed Ethos to give the final okay, but he felt reasonably certain the modifications he’d made were sound and stable. Strange that Ethos hadn’t joined him yet, but then again the hanger was starting to empty out as teams paused their work to break for lunch. 

On cue his stomach grumbled eagerly at the suggestion of a meal. However, as he started to leave, Praxis noticed Encke and Keeler standing beneath the Drache talking. He hadn’t seen them earlier. Perhaps Keeler knew where Ethos had gone after the briefing. Keeler very well could have been delayed coming to work on his ship because of Ethos, after all. Not far away at the Equinox, Phobos and Deimos were finishing up their work as well. If Praxis didn’t hurry to the mess hall, the biovats would be serving up the bottom dregs. He could easily catch up with Deimos instead of pestering Keeler. 

* * *

**Walk with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 29**

**Ask Keeler about Ethos, go to CHAPTER 13**


	20. Chapter 20

Tantalizing as the temptation was to join Deimos and linger in the simple pleasure of swapping back scrubs, Praxis found an unoccupied shower spray for himself. He averted his gaze from the corners of the tile enclosure, not wanting to look too closely at the wet entanglement of limbs and sensual motion likely to be found there. 

Moving quickly, Praxis washed the sweat from his skin and took the time to slick his hair with conditioner as well. He didn’t want to linger for too long, however. His thoughts kept drifting to Ethos, frowning over the tablet screen. Although it wasn’t too unusual for Ethos to get absorbed into work like this, something felt off about it to Praxis. He seemed so particularly distressed by the assignment. 

Praxis dressed into his uniform and then left the fighter base. He went to the hanger, thinking to find Ethos near the Tiberius as usual for this time of day. When he arrived, though, there wasn’t a sign of Ethos anywhere. No dangling cables, no diagnostics on the screens, no lifted engine hatch or scattering of tools beneath. 

Praxis climbed down from the cockpit and looked around at the other ships in the bay. He spotted the Reliant where Abel and Cain could be seen working, and over at the Equinox Deimos and Phobos were likewise cooperating -- or at least from this distance it looked like cooperation. 

Perhaps Ethos had been delayed talking to Keeler after the navigator briefing, or maybe Phobos or Abel could tell Praxis where he might have gone. On the other hand, Praxis knew several adjustments and modifications he needed to make to the Tiberius before they were called to combat next. It was safer to do them now, without Ethos, than get caught by surprise and be compromised in battle. Ethos might very well show up on his own at any minute. 

* * *

**Ask Phobos about Ethos, go to CHAPTER 23**

**Ask Abel about Ethos, go to CHAPTER 26**

**Work on the ship, go to CHAPTER 11**


	21. Chapter 21

“That’d be great,” Praxis said. “Thanks so much.” Too late he saw the way Encke gave an ever imperceptible shake of head. With sinking dread Praxis realized he’d inadvertently done absolutely the wrong thing. It was too late to take it back, however. 

“Great!” Keeler gently clapped his hands together. “Let’s get to it, then.”

Praxis glanced to Encke and swallowed nervously. Dozens of punitive laps and push-ups awaited him in the future, no doubt. Nothing to do about it other than make the best use of Keeler’s help while he had it. Reluctantly he led Keeler back over to the Tiberius and explained what the adjustments were that he needed to make. 

As they worked together checking over the Tiberius, Praxis came to realize just why Keeler was the Lead Navigator. Not that Ethos wasn’t brilliant himself, of course, but Keeler came up with clever and elegant solutions on the fly. His attention to detail and appreciation of the big picture saved Praxis from several silly mistakes. 

“Thanks for helping,” Praxis said, once they were finishing up. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Keeler smiled and braced a hand against the side of the Tiberius. “Can you pack the rest of this away on your own? I’m famished.”

“Of course. Sorry to keep you,” Praxis said. He got the Tiberius into ready shape for deployment before leaving her to seek lunch for his rumbling and grumbling stomach. 

When he did reach the mess hall, Praxis was dismayed to find his prediction about the biovats had been on the mark. The machine whined piteously before disgorging a few unappealing chunks. A long, stringy goop of sauce followed along with a handful of short, off-white grains. Rice, perhaps, with meat substitute and colorful round circles posing as vegetables. 

Praxis slid his tray to the end and grabbed a few utensils. He turned to take in the scant accumulation of fighters and navigators still eating at this late hour. 

* * *

**Sit with Athos, go to CHAPTER 35**

**Sit alone, go to CHAPTER 38**


	22. Chapter 22

When they reached the mess hall, Praxis was dismayed to find his prediction about the biovats had been on the mark. The machine whined piteously before disgorging a few unappealing chunks. A long, stringy goop of sauce followed along with a handful of short, off-white grains. Rice, perhaps, with meat substitute and colorful round circles posing as vegetables. 

Praxis slid his tray to the end and grabbed a few utensils. He followed Deimos over to one of the empty tables and settled on to the bench. “Not much of a lunch, huh? Looks better than breakfast, at least,” he said. 

Deimos shrugged for his reply, and they ate in companionable silence after that. When finished, they cleared their trays into the sanitizer. 

“Are you going to the sim room?” Praxis asked. Deimos nodded. “Okay. Good luck, then. If you see Ethos, tell him I’ll be at the ship.” 

Deimos nodded again, and they parted ways. Praxis returned to the almost-empty hanger bay. He half-expected to see Ethos at the Tiberius, but he had no such luck. Regardless of wherever his navigator might be, Praxis had enough to keep himself busy for the remainder of the day and well into the night. 

It was only later, much later, lying in his bottom bunk with a drowsy Deimos settled against his side, that Praxis started to grow unduly concerned. It simply wasn’t possible for Ethos to have gone entirely missing, however. He might have made headway on the translation project Keeler assigned him and was simply tied up in the navigator lab. 

This wouldn’t be the first night that Praxis fell asleep with the top bunk empty and woke to find Ethos tucked away into it as normal. Ethos was supremely talented at sneaking into the room at odd hours without waking him, or perhaps it was just that Praxis slept so deeply a marching band could sneak in without his noticing. Praxis reassured the doubtful little voice of worry inside himself that Ethos would be there in the morning and there was nothing to be concerned about. 

* * *

**Return to CHAPTER 1**


	23. Chapter 23

Praxis strode across the hanger bay to where the Equinox sat hulking, sleek and silent as its fighter. As he grew nearer he could hear Phobos shouting instructions from the cockpit to where Deimos stood half-buried in cables beneath the ship. 

“Try it now!” Phobos leaned over the side of the open cockpit. “Red cable to the green cable!”

Deimos flashed him a thumbs up, and Phobos disappeared inside the cockpit once more. When he reappeared a moment later, Praxis waved to get his attention. “Hello!”

Phobos leaned his arms over the edge of the ship to brace his weight. “We’re busy, Praxis. What do you want?”

Praxis let the prickly tone slide without comment. Sometimes Phobos treated him and Deimos with equal contempt for no apparent reason other than their mutual existence in his life, and Praxis wasn’t about to interfere with Deimos’ partnership with his navigator. 

“I’m looking for Ethos,” Praxis called up to Phobos. “Have you seen him?”

“Like, today? Sure.” Phobos wiped the back of his hand over his forehead and left behind a greasy black smear of engine lubricant. “But not recently, no. Is he not with your ship?”

Praxis shook his head. “Thanks anyway.”

Phobos tipped his head to the side slightly. The coquettish gesture corresponded with his tone softening into cajoling sweetness. “If you’re not busy, then, mind giving us a hand?”

* * *

**Help Phobos and Deimos work on the Equinox, go to CHAPTER 12**

**Return to the Tiberius, go to CHAPTER 19**


	24. Chapter 24

Praxis waited for Ethos to collect his tablet before pulling open his designated dresser drawer. He grabbed the pieces of his uniform without looking and then slipped into the small, cramped confines of the bathroom. Within the tight arrangement of space efficiency was the toilet, narrow vanity and mirror, and the frost-plexi shower stall. 

“Good morning,” he announced. From beneath the steady spray of water came the quietest of hums, a soft curiosity. 

Praxis set the bundle of his uniform on the sink. He piled his night clothes on the floor atop the heaped shadow of Deimos’ matching set. Praxis rolled the shower door aside for a better look at one of his favorite sights; Deimos wearing nothing but water and the coy whisper of a smile. 

* * *

**Use the shower for its intended purpose, CHAPTER 40**

**Kiss Deimos, CHAPTER 3**


	25. Chapter 25

Much as catching up with Deimos to walk with him sounded nice, Praxis figured they’d both end up in the mess hall eventually. With any luck Cain would have eaten and departed already, so Praxis could claim a spot at the table beside Deimos without interference. 

When he did reach the mess hall, Praxis was dismayed to find his prediction about the biovats had been on the mark. The machine whined piteously before disgorging a few unappealing chunks. A long, stringy goop of sauce followed along with a handful of short, off-white grains. Rice, perhaps, with meat substitute and colorful round circles posing as vegetables. 

Praxis slid his tray to the end and grabbed a few utensils. He turned to take in the accumulation of fighters and navigators still eating at this late hour. 

* * *

**Sit with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 14**

**Sit with Athos, go to CHAPTER 35**

**Sit alone, go to CHAPTER 38**


	26. Chapter 26

Sometimes Ethos and Abel sat together at meals, so Praxis thought it perhaps likely that Abel might know the missing navigator’s whereabouts. Praxis started across the hanger to where the Reliant rested comfortably, battle-scarred and weary. As he walked nearer, he saw first Cain and then Abel climb up into the cockpit. The hatch closed, seamless and solid. 

Praxis slowed his stride. He was struck with uncomfortable awareness of just why Abel might have looked so shifty and flushed as he climbed the ladder. Perhaps the two of them just wanted to test the ship’s systems together. Certainly they wouldn’t be so bold as to… in the middle of the working day, while a dozen other teams and maintenance crew surrounded them on all sides. Praxis paused well shy of the Reliant. Only one way to find out for certain, if he felt like confronting a likely disaster. 

* * *

**Knock on the Reliant’s cockpit, go to CHAPTER 46**

**Return to the Tiberius, go to CHAPTER 39**


	27. Chapter 27

Much as Praxis did want the Lead Navigator’s help, he was more wary of the tumultuous displeasure rumbling silently over Encke’s glowering expression. A hundred push-ups and just as many crunches lay in his future if Praxis accepted, he felt certain of that. 

“That’s very kind of you,” Praxis said carefully, “but I’ll wait for Ethos. It’s not that urgent. I have other things to work on in the meantime.” He thought he saw Encke give him the smallest of approving nods, and Praxis felt very much like he’d dodged a bullet. 

“Oh.” Keeler’s shoulders fell slightly. “If you’re certain?”

Praxis nodded. “Thank you, though. I appreciate the offer.” He made a quick escape before the situation could be any further complicated with awkwardness. 

When he reached the mess hall, Praxis was dismayed to find his prediction about the biovats had been on the mark. The machine whined piteously before disgorging a few unappealing chunks. A long, stringy goop of sauce followed along with a handful of short, off-white grains. Rice, perhaps, with meat substitute and colorful round circles posing as vegetables. 

Praxis slid his tray to the end and grabbed a few utensils. He turned to take in the scant accumulation of fighters and navigators still eating at this late hour. 

* * *

**Sit with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 14**

**Sit with Athos, go to CHAPTER 35**

**Sit alone, go to CHAPTER 38**


	28. Chapter 28

Praxis gently pushed Deimos away from him enough to sink to his knees. The press of the tile floor wasn’t exactly comfortable, but the view more than made up for it. His hands caressed over Deimos’ trim hips and lean thighs with reverent appreciation. He tugged Deimos forward so as to nuzzle his lips over that stiffened cock so jauntily on display for him. 

“Ah,” breathed Deimos. Soft, sighing, then again, sharpening into something of a pleading cry as Praxis teased him further. “Ahhn!” 

“Love you,” Praxis murmured. His lips pressed the words directly into slick and heated skin. “Deimos, I love you.”

“Mmn!” Deimos set his shoulders into the wall of the shower stall and braced a hand on Praxis’ shoulder. His fingers clenched and curled with silent pleading. 

Praxis gathered the heavy, satisfying weight of Deimos’ erection into his mouth. His hand worked pleasure over the base as his lips and tongue attended to the tip, and it wasn’t long at all before he had Deimos writhing and panting against him. Praxis took his own cock in hand and began to pump toward climax with the same exquisite rhythm. 

Deimos’ hand dug into his shoulder. “Ah! Ahh! Praxis!” His cries were soft, aching, scarcely more than husky secret whispers. Each sent secret thrills along Praxis’ spine that went directly to his cock and balls, tightening that spiral of pleasure toward its breaking point. 

“Praxis!” Deimos patted his shoulder with frantic insistence. Each panted breath broke on the edge of a softly pleaded cry. 

Praxis forged on heedless of the warning, and salty warmth flooded his mouth in jolting spurts. He swallowed rapidly to accommodate. When finished, Deimos slid into a boneless glide along the tile to join him in uncomfortable kneeling. 

“I got it,” Praxis murmured. “You don’t --”

Deimos shooed his hand away and fumbled his own into place. They came together for a kiss as Deimos found a coaxing rhythm. His hands rubbed and fondled, pulled and pumped, until Praxis shot his climax into the tile floor. The steady spray of the shower washed it into the drain. 

“Oh, baby.” Praxis leaned back on his heels, dazed and grinning like a fool from orgasm. “You’re so beautiful. I love you so much.”

Deimos got caught somewhere between scowling and smiling, pleased with the compliment but embarrassed all the same. “Be late,” he warned. He climbed to his feet and hastily wiped his body down under the water. 

Praxis knew he was right. He got to his feet as well so they could finish getting ready for the day.

* * *

**Eat breakfast, go to CHAPTER 33**


	29. Chapter 29

Praxis quickened his stride to catch up with Deimos. The effort earned him a lean sideways smile. They walked close together, close enough that their fingers could brush and tangle with absent ease. 

“Ugh. Must you?” Phobos shouldered past and kept going at a short, clipped pace to get well away from them. 

Slightly embarrassed to have been caught, Praxis started to pull his hand away. He stopped, however, when Deimos caught his wrist with a light touch. They stood alone in the corridor, and Deimos wore one of his secret smiles. Slowly, pointedly, Deimos glanced to the utility closet just over his shoulder. It was a shockingly blatant and thrilling suggestion, and Praxis was deeply tempted to accept. 

* * *

**Enter the utility closet with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 36**

**Head to the mess hall for lunch, go to CHAPTER 15**


	30. Chapter 30

After the briefing rundown, Encke tasked them with running laps. Sometimes Praxis adjusted his long-legged gait to keep pace with Deimos, sometimes he liked to trail behind Deimos and simply watch him. It often depended on Deimos’ expression, if he looked lost in thought or singularly focused. On the focused days, Praxis found it easier to lag behind Deimos rather than try keeping pace with his swift, sleek jog. That particular day Deimos moved with lazy contentment, and Praxis enjoyed the quiet companionship between them as they ran Encke’s ordered laps. 

As usual, Cain took off like the whole thing was a race. Often he made it one, challenging whoever who would take his goading boasts seriously. When Cain lapped past them he shouted taunts that Praxis steadfastly ignored. 

”Show some hustle, cyclops!”

One day, Praxis was going to accidentally trip Cain. The wicked thought of doing so carried him through the final breathless, muscle-burning lap. 

“Hit the showers and report to your navigators!” Encke barked. 

Deimos ran a wash towel over his face to clear it of sweat. He caught Praxis’ eye and glimmered a secretive nothing of a smile before turning and walking for the showers. 

* * *

**Shower with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 31**


	31. Chapter 31

The air was thick with steam and the quiet murmuring of voices when Praxis entered the communal showers. He averted his gaze from the corners of the tile enclosure, not wanting to look too closely at the slick entanglement of limbs and sensual motion likely to be found there. He instead joined Deimos at one of the plentiful sprays of hot water. 

Never one for displaying affection in public, Deimos might tolerate helpful little scrub across his back or maybe a few idle, appreciating touches, but no more. Praxis couldn’t blame him for that; the idea of a frenzied coupling out here in the open where anyone could see them was a nightmare to consider. 

Scrubbing soap suds over Deimos’ back, though, and having Deimos do the same for him, though, that was okay. That didn’t attract any unusual amounts of attention, except maybe a sideways sneer from Cain if he saw them. 

Afterward Praxis toweled off with Deimos just beside him doing the same. They exchanged smiles, Deimos’ just a small uptick of his lips. Of all the shy, secretive smiles Deimos gave him, these were some of his favorites. They were alone, for the moment. Praxis put a subtle glance around the locker room to confirm. 

* * *

**Kiss Deimos, go to CHAPTER 16**

**Finish getting dressed without kissing him, go to CHAPTER 17**


	32. Chapter 32

Praxis and Deimos walked alone in the corridor toward the lift, side by side, hands close enough to brush yet remaining apart. Sometimes Praxis took the daring initiative to tangle their fingers together, perhaps lightly graze his knuckles across the back of Deimos’. Some days Deimos let him get away with that, some days Deimos was the one who teased and tempted at them walking hand-in-hand to breakfast after a night spent sleeping side-by-side. 

As they stood waiting for the lift, Praxis trailed his fingertips lightly across the back of Deimos’ hand. After a moment of this, Deimos glanced sideways with the barest hint of a smile. Praxis thought of kissing him, thought of all the kisses shared between them in the night, and needed to think of nearly anything else once the lift arrived. They weren’t alone anymore for such thoughts and wouldn’t be alone again during the day except for stolen moments. 

* * *

**Enter the mess hall, go to CHAPTER 33**


	33. Chapter 33

Down in the mess hall, long benches housed the steady stream of soldiers coming in to load trays with shapeless, tasteless, nutritionally-balanced meal selections. Ethos claimed to know someone who knew someone that worked in the kitchens, harvesting and processing the algae vat production into semi-edible substances. Praxis hadn’t wanted the details, really. 

Once his tray consisted of a squarish bowl of beige lumps dotted by blue and red circles, Praxis stepped to the side to survey the open seats. He spotted Deimos already settling into place across from Cain, as usual. 

* * *

**Sit with Cain and Deimos, go to CHAPTER 45**

**Sit alone, go to CHAPTER 43**


	34. Chapter 34

Ethos slipped out of the room still buried face-first in his tablet, leaving Praxis open access to the dresser. He pulled a freshly laundered pair of pants from his designated drawer but needed a covert sniff to determine which of his jackets was least in need of washing. Before much longer he’d need to bundle together his clothes and take them to the ship’s laundry. Maybe visit the ship’s barber to get his haircut at the same time, because Praxis liked to combine such chores when possible. 

As he sat to secure his boots, Deimos emerged from the bathroom fully dressed. Praxis glanced up, entranced by the way Deimos looked with the damp, dark gloss of his hair and pink-scrubbed sheen of his cheeks.

“Good morning,” said Praxis. He pulled his other boot into place. “Sleep well?”

The slow roll of Deimos’ shoulder formed his reply. He stood idle for a moment, airless and casual as if he wasn’t waiting around for a particular reason. 

Praxis stood and joined Deimos at the door so they could leave. 

* * *

**Leave with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 32**


	35. Chapter 35

Praxis carried his tray over to one of the tables where a single fighter slowly chewing, expression clouded with a deep focus. “Mind if I sit here?”

Athos blinked hard and stared up at Praxis. “What? Oh! Yeah, sure. ‘Course you can, not like I’m in charge of the place.” He grinned, easy-going and carefree. 

Praxis set down his tray and took a seat on the bench. “Not much of a lunch, huh? Looks better than breakfast, at least,” said Praxis. 

Athos glanced first one way and then the other. He ducked his head some and lowered his voice as well. “I’m starting to think they’re putting something in the food. Antibiotics, maybe. To help us build immunity.”

Praxis stared at him, fork half-lifted to his mouth. “What?”

“To space flu! I heard from Vicks who heard it from Ivan who got it from Sergio. There’s this big bag of powder they add to every meal, before it goes into the biovat. We’re eating whatever’s in that bag right now.”

Praxis let the fork complete its journey into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, pointedly, and swallowed. He took another bite as Athos watched. “It’s probably just vitamins and minerals.”

“That’s what they want you to think,” Athos insisted. “Microbes to help build immunity to space flu is the best case scenario. You don’t want me to tell you about the worst.”

“Why would it be in the food?” Praxis speared one of the replicant meat chunks with his fork. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to just pump it directly into the air?”

Enough silence stretched from Athos’ side of the table that Praxis glanced up to check on him. He sat staring, mouth ever so slightly agape, frozen with the horror of freshly-dawn discovery.

Praxis tried to backpedal. “I’m sure it’s not that. Vitamins and stuff makes the most sense. Supplements, for our health. That’s all. Ethos knows someone who works in the kitchens. I’ll have him ask.” 

“I have to go,” Athos said. He scrambled up from the bench and snagged tray. 

“I’m sorry!” Praxis called after him. “I’m sure it’s nothing!”

After finishing his lunch with all its mysterious powder-laden scrumptiousness, Praxis returned to the almost-empty hanger bay. He half-expected to see Ethos at the Tiberius, but he had no such luck. Regardless of wherever his navigator might be, Praxis had enough to keep himself busy for the remainder of the day and well into the night. 

It was only later, much later, lying in his bottom bunk with a drowsy Deimos settled against his side, that Praxis started to grow unduly concerned. It simply wasn’t possible for Ethos to have gone entirely missing, however. He might have made headway on the translation project Keeler assigned him and was simply tied up in the navigator lab. 

This wouldn’t be the first night that Praxis fell asleep with the top bunk empty and woke to find Ethos tucked away into it as normal. Praxis felt assured that Ethos would be there in the morning, There was nothing to be concerned about, certainly not the mysterious powder going into their food, and decidedly not his navigator’s busy day. 

* * *

**Return to CHAPTER 1**


	36. Chapter 36

Praxis glanced along the corridor to ensure they were well and truly alone before following Deimos into the utility closet. It was cramped inside, not a lot of room for maneuvering between Deimos and the shelves. Praxis started to suggest they find a different location before Deimos was on him, mouth hot and hands eager. He lost himself readily in the heady joy of kissing Deimos, of rubbing his hands over the lean fighter’s muscled back and slender hips. 

Deimos pulled and pushed fabric out of the way to free Praxis of his uniform jacket. He broke from hard, frenzied kisses long enough to shove his own jacket out of the way. Praxis used the break to fumble open his uniform pants. The risk of getting caught grew with every passing second, and Praxis had to admit the idea -- in the abstract -- was thrilling. In reality he might die of embarrassment if someone were to stumble across them like this. 

Deimos slipped a hand beneath the loosened waistband of Praxis’ pants and took hold of the half-hard erection he found waiting. Praxis groaned appreciatively at the feel of those slim and talented fingers massaged and stroking him to full stiffness. Their lips met, and Deimos boldly explored his mouth with an insistent tongue. 

Praxis swept a hand around Deimos’ waist to draw him close. Deimos broke from kissing him and simply stared for a moment, intense and calculating, before his lips upticked into a coy smile. Deimos pushed away from Praxis enough to turn around within the cramped confines of the utility closet. 

Deimos shimmied his hips enticingly as he pushed his pants and underwear out of the way. He braced his arms on the shelves and spread his knees as far as he could, given the tangle of fabric around his ankles. He watched Praxis over his shoulder with a bold, direct look of seductive suggestion. He wiggled his hips again to help cement the suggestion into demand. 

A bolt of arousal shot straight to Praxis’ dick at the wanton display. His cock throbbed hard with the desire to bury himself into Deimos. He nestled his erection between Deimos’ ass checks and rubbed against him.

Praxis scanned the shelves around them in a desperate search for something, anything, to use on Deimos. Pickings were slim, and he considered the available options carefully. 

* * *

**Use the can labeled ‘engine lubricant’, go to CHAPTER 37**

**Suggestion some frottage instead, go to CHAPTER 44**


	37. Chapter 37

Praxis snagged the can labeled ‘engine lubricant’ off the shelf and pried open the rusty lid. The shimmering copper-colored liquid within smelled of the Tiberius’ cockpit after a long battle and had the viscosity of warm butter. Praxis dipped his fingers into the small can and rubbed them together to spread the slippery oil. He pressed at Deimos but hesitated. 

“You sure about this, baby?”

For an answer, Deimos pushed eagerly into his hand. Praxis pushed forward and felt Deimos shudder around the invasion of his finger. “Mmn,” Deimos hummed. “Mmhm….”

Praxis worked quickly but carefully until Deimos was pliant and relaxed, body loose and cheeks flushed. Deimos panted softly, eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he leaned into the brace of his folded arms. He made an enticing, irresistible sight. Praxis eagerly rubbed his cock into Deimos’ thigh and left a glistening trail of pre-ejaculate. If he took any longer prepping Deimos, he ran the risk of shooting his load early just from the small, soft moans Deimos was making. 

Praxis rubbed generous amounts of the lubricant over his erection. He ignored the off-putting look of the shimmering oil against his skin and set the head of his cock against Deimos’ ass. Deimos curled his hands against the shelves and arched his back, pressing back at the same time Praxis pushed forward. His cock slipped inside easily, and Praxis choked back a groan at the tight feel of Deimos around him. 

“Aaahn…” Deimos tucked his lower lip into his teeth. He glanced back at Praxis and nodded, ever so slightly. Praxis slid forward to hilt himself fully into Deimos’ ass. He pulled back and pushed forward, slow at first, and then letting his thrusts pick up speed as the motions became smooth.

“Oh, baby. You feel so good, goddamn.” Talking was a dangerous idea, it was a sure way for them to get caught, but Praxis couldn’t help himself. “Love you, fuck. Deimos, I --”

“Mmhm!” Deimos shifted to better brace his weight against the shelves as Praxis rocked him into them repeatedly. “Mhmh!”

“Fuck!” Praxis gasped. The small sounds falling from Deimos were making him fall to pieces much too soon. He steeled his resolute and took a firm grip on his self-control. 

Praxis thrust hard and slow, deliberate, just the way he knew Deimos liked, and was rewarded with a soft outcry of pleasure from the normally silent fighter. He kept up that same steady pace at different angles until Deimos spasmed and thrashed with an even sharper cry. 

“Aahn! Ahhn!” Deimos curled his hands into fists. His eyes scrunched tight as his chest worked like a shivering bellows. “Aahn...!” 

Praxis pressed on, relentless, driving his lover over the edge into orgasm with practiced ease. Ejaculate splattered into the bottom of the utility closet as Deimos shuddered and tensed. He tightened around Praxis and bucked forward. 

Praxis spread one hand over Deimos’ chest to help support his weight while his other closed around Deimos’ cock to coax the rest of the orgasm from him. He continued to thrust in and out of Deimos but at a shallower, faster angle.

“Love you, baby. Love you, love you.” He whispered it like a prayer, quick and breathless. It felt so fucking good to pump in and out of Deimos’ ass that Praxis never wanted to stop. His hips jerked, and with a short groan he reached climax. His cock throbbed as wet hot heat slicked everything and turned his stuttering thrusts liquid. The excess flowed out of Deimos as Praxis kept rolling into him even once empty.

Gradually he came to a stop. Deimos turned his head, and Praxis kissed him. Soft, sweet, savoring, unhurried and lazy with sated desire. They separated and tried to clean the resultant mess as best they could given their limited means. Praxis sacrificed one of his socks to the effort and afterward jammed the soiled thing into his pants pocket. 

Once put back together into their uniforms, Praxis and Deimos slipped out of the utility closet and resumed walking to the mess hall. 

* * *

**Eat lunch, go to CHAPTER 5**


	38. Chapter 38

Praxis was hungry enough that he simply sat at the first available table. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation or niceties, he just wanted to eat until his stomach no longer ached from emptiness. He ate quickly, with barely enough pause to chew, and cleaned his plate easily. Only a breath of dignity kept him from dating to lick the plate clean. 

Once he finished, Praxis deposited the tray on to the sanitizer belt. He returned to the almost-empty hanger bay. He half-expected to see Ethos at the Tiberius, but he had no such luck. Regardless of wherever his navigator might be, Praxis had enough to keep himself busy for the remainder of the day and well into the night. 

It was only later, much later, lying in his bottom bunk with a drowsy Deimos settled against his side, that Praxis started to grow unduly concerned. It simply wasn’t possible for Ethos to have gone entirely missing, however. He might have made headway on the translation project Keeler assigned him and was simply tied up in the navigator lab. 

This wouldn’t be the first night that Praxis fell asleep with the top bunk empty and woke to find Ethos tucked away into it as normal. Ethos was supremely talented at sneaking into the room at odd hours without waking him, or perhaps it was just that Praxis slept so deeply a marching band could sneak in without his noticing. Praxis reassured the doubtful little voice of worry inside himself that Ethos would be there in the morning and there was nothing to be concerned about. 

* * *

**Return to CHAPTER 1**


	39. Chapter 39

Absolutely nothing could make him brave the climb up the ladder to disturb the cockpit of the Reliant. Praxis didn’t want to think about what might be happening. He turned and walked swiftly back to the safer grounds of the Tiberius. Curiosity killed the cat, and it’d be the death of him as well if he went down that path. 

Praxis spent the next couple hours diligently working on the ship. Without Ethos there to help crosscheck and run cables the work took twice as long, but Praxis didn’t mind. He didn’t mind either that it was hard work, sweaty and greasy, so that when he was done he didn’t know why he’d bothered to shower at all after physical training. 

Praxis wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and surveyed the Tiberius. He still needed Ethos to give the final okay, but he felt reasonably certain the modifications he’d made were sound and stable. Strange that Ethos hadn’t joined him yet, but then again the hanger was starting to empty out as teams paused their work to break for lunch. 

On cue his stomach grumbled eagerly at the suggestion of a meal. If Praxis didn’t hurry to the mess hall, the biovats would be serving up bottom-crust formulated algae mush and deep regret. Across the hanger he saw Phobos and Deimos quitting their ship work as well, but he’d need to hurry if he wanted to catch up with either of them. 

* * *

**Walk with Deimos, go to CHAPTER 29**

**Don’t bother, go to CHAPTER 25**


	40. Chapter 40

Despite the alluring temptation of Deimos being kissably-close and water slick, Praxis stepped into the shower with the intent to do little more than wash his hair and scrub his face. Sometimes starting the day with a shower seemed pointless, as physical training followed their morning briefing. The communal showers there, however, never seemed as hot and cozy as the en suite bath. And he couldn’t use the scrunched confines of the shower as an excuse to brush against Deimos or steal small kisses against wet lips. 

Deimos stepped out of the shower first and began to get dressed. Praxis turned off the water not long after. Deimos handed him a slightly used and mostly dry towel then stood observing, dark gaze bright with concealed mischief. He looked so beautiful in that moment that Praxis regretted not taking better advantage of the time, even if it meant catching the tail end of breakfast and all the consequences of sub-par dining choices. 

“Ready?” Praxis asked, even though it was obvious.

Deimos nodded. He didn’t move from the doorway, not even when Praxis came up close. At last Deimos tipped forward, stretching onto his toes even as Praxis bent down slightly. They met for a kiss, long and tender and sweet. One kiss, and then another, each more tender until it was well and truly time to leave. 

* * *

**Walk to the lift, go to CHAPTER 32**


	41. Chapter 41

Praxis let his hand glide along Deimos’ side in a lengthy caress. Husky-voiced affection fell from his lips like a fervent prayer. “I love you. Deimos, I love you.”

“Ah,” Deimos breathed in return. “Ah!” An enthusiastic agreement, by the silent fighter’s standards. It sent thrills through Praxis, pops and sparkles of effervescent joy.

Praxis wrapped a hand around Deimos’ cock and gave it a gentle tug, enough to draw further hushed cries from him. He loved to coax those types of sounds from Deimos, the rasping whispers of reverent ecstasy that were his alone to treasure. A few more steady pulls and Deimos melted against him, doe-eyed and moaning. 

They shuffled awkwardly under the steady spray of cool water before finding refuge in the opposite corner of the shower stall. Praxis adjusted his hold to get their cocks aligned in such a way he could stroke them both, and the combined sensation of friction and heat, steady pressure, Deimos against him -- it was all so electrifying that his knees felt weak. He braced his back and shoulders into the tile. 

“Ah, Deimos!” he gasped. “You feel--!” 

“Mmn!” Deimos clutched at him, fingers scrabbling uselessly into the damp skin. His frenzied nothing of a voice whined desperate agreement. “Mmhm!”

Come slicked through Praxis’ fingers as Deimos reached climax first. It pushed him over the edge as well, so they both gasped and shuddered in dazed splendor. For a moment he felt breathless, stunned, incapable of thought or motion beyond the slow, lazy pump of his hand over their cocks to pump them both spent and satisfied.

Deimos stretched up to kiss him. Scarcely more than a mouthed suggestion fell from his lips. “Love you, too.”

A shudder of aftershock rolled through Praxis. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Yeah. Love you, so much.”

Deimos withdrew with a shy smile, grey eyes soft like summer rain. He quickly cleaned himself under the spray and then hopped out of the shower. Praxis needed a moment further to catch his breath before doing the same. They’d both be late if they didn’t hurry to get dressed. 

* * *

**Eat breakfast, go to CHAPTER 33**


	42. Chapter 42

“Mind if I sit here?”

Ethos pulled his head quite a bit in Praxis’ direction breaking focus from the tablet screen. “Hm? Oh, Praxis. Sure. Here, sorry --” He swept the tablet off the table and into his lap. 

Praxis set down his tray and sat beside his navigator. “Still working on that?”

“Yeah… I feel like I might be getting closer.” Ethos didn’t sound happy about that. He glumly chased residual rice porridge around the inside of his breakfast bowl. “Maybe. It seems too easy, though, if it’s just division by seven with irregularly alternating nulls.”

Time spent with Deimos had helped Praxis perfect a non-committal hum. Fortunately Ethos didn’t need much encouragement to keep going, probably from time spent with Deimos as well. 

“Columnar transposition would make sense, though. That would explain the nulls and seven sequences.”

“Yeah?” Praxis chewed through the next stretch of silence. Ethos sat spoon and lips both idle, a thoughtful expression clouding his face. 

“Yeah.” Ethos looked down at the tablet and then picked up his tray. “Yeah. Thanks, Praxis. I think that’s it.”

“Good luck,” Praxis said. Ethos parted from him with a smile. As he sat finishing his breakfast, Praxis looked across the mess hall where Deimos sat with Cain. 

* * *

**Sit with Deimos and Cain, go to CHAPTER 45**

**Report to the Lead Fighter, go to CHAPTER 8**


	43. Chapter 43

Praxis chose a section of table where no one else was sitting and plunked himself down to eat. Some days Deimos made an effort to sit with him, more often Praxis simply interposed himself on the standing arrangement of Deimos beside Cain at meals and briefings. It didn’t really matter that Cain occupied so much of Deimos’ day, when time with Praxis occupied most of his evenings. 

Once finished eating what the biovat had labeled oatmeal, Praxis fed his empty tray into the loading belt for the sanitizer. He briefly caught sight of Ethos and waved, but the navigator’s face was still buried in his tablet. Praxis lowered his hand feeling a bit foolish. There was nothing left to do except make his way to where Encke waited with their PT orders for the day. 

* * *

**Report to the Lead Fighter, go to CHAPTER 30**


	44. Chapter 44

“Maybe not,” Praxis said. He tugged gently at Deimos’ hip to turn him around. A stubborn scowl met him, his deadly lean fighter of a lover ready to fight him over this. Praxis brushed aside the silent protest with a lingering caress of his hand over Deimos’ hip and ass, between his thighs and around. 

“How about…?” Praxis stroked his hand along Deimos’ cock. 

The frustrated lines faded from Deimos’ face as he arched into the touch. “Mmn…”

Praxis leaned close and kissed the delicate ridge of Deimos’ ear. “Tonight,” he promised. 

“Mmhm.” Deimos nodded slightly. He looped his arms around Praxis’ neck as he was lifted. 

Praxis settled him into a precariously balance against the shelves. Deimos secured himself with the wrap of his ankles. Praxis could easily wrap a hand around both their cocks this way, once the difference in their heights was lessened. 

They came together for a kiss, slow like the steady pump of Praxis’ hand, then growing hot and heated. “Fuck,” Praxis whispered against Deimos’ lips. “Love you, baby.” He rolled his hips in pace with the up and down motion of his hand. 

Deimos nipped at him in response. His fingers curled and plucked their way through Praxis’ hair in a gentle clawing motion. “Mmn…!”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you.” Praxis panted softly and nuzzled at Deimos’ face. He couldn’t stop himself from whispering a steady stream of endearments. “Love you. So much, I love you. You’re so fucking hot. I love you, goddamn, I --” 

“Mmhm!” Deimos squeezed his legs tight against Praxis’ side. 

Praxis huffed and panted, tried to rein himself back, and realized the effort was useless by the tight sensation behind his balls, the steady trembling in his thighs. He jacked himself faster, Deimos’ cock pressed right up against his, and only need a few swift strokes to plunge off the edge. 

Wet heat slicked through his fingers and coated their cocks in slippery lubricant. Praxis groaned and jerked his hips into Deimos as the last spurts dribbled out of his spent cock. Conscious of Deimos still hard and wanting against him, Praxis redoubled his efforts at pleasuring him with his hand. 

Deimos scrunched his eyes shut. “Aah! Ahh…!” His mouth stretched with a silent, shuddering approval. He tensed and tightened around Praxis as he reached climax. More come spilled into Praxis’ hand and slicked them both all over again. 

Once finished they took a moment to catch their breath before hastily getting cleaned up. Praxis sacrificed the hem of his uniform top to the effort and then tucked it into his pants afterward to hide the whitish smears. When dressed and somewhat presentable, they slipped out of the utility closet and resumed walking to the mess hall for lunch. 

Upon reaching the mess hall, Praxis was dismayed to find his prediction about the biovats had been on the mark. The machine whined piteously before depositing a largely unappetizing meal on to his plate. 

Praxis slid his tray to the end and grabbed a few utensils. He followed Deimos over to one of the empty tables and settled on to the bench. “Not much of a lunch, huh? Looks better than breakfast, at least,” he said. 

Deimos shrugged for his reply, and they ate in companionable silence after that. When finished, they cleared their trays into the sanitizer. 

“Are you going to the sim room?” Praxis asked. Deimos nodded. “Okay. Good luck, then. If you see Ethos, tell him I’ll be at the ship.” 

Deimos nodded again, and they parted ways. Praxis returned to the almost-empty hanger bay. He half-expected to see Ethos at the Tiberius, but he had no such luck. Regardless of wherever his navigator might be, Praxis had enough to keep himself busy for the remainder of the day and well into the night. As promised, the two of them made full of the proper lubricant Praxis kept on hand. 

It was only later, much later, lying in his bottom bunk with a drowsy and thoroughly well-fucked Deimos settled against his side, that Praxis started to grow unduly concerned. It simply wasn’t possible for Ethos to have gone entirely missing. He must have made headway on the translation project Keeler assigned him and was simply tied up in the navigator lab. 

This wouldn’t be the first night that Praxis fell asleep with the top bunk empty and woke to find Ethos tucked away into it as normal. Praxis reassured the doubtful little voice of worry inside himself that Ethos would be there in the morning and there was nothing to be concerned about. 

* * *

**Return to CHAPTER 1**


	45. Chapter 45

Praxis set his tray down beside Deimos and squeezed into the remaining section of bench. Across the table, Cain’s sneer acknowledge and dismissed the silent interruption. His rant, begun while Praxis approached the table, continued unimpeded. 

“He’s keeping me up all night with it. Click-clacking, fucking fingers always busy. How am I supposed to sleep, that keyboard racket going all the time?” Cain scurried his spoon around the inside of the bowl. Globs of pasty-brown mush clung to the metal. “I ought to kick his ass into the hall.”

Deimos shifted some along the bench to make room. He kept the sideways cut his gaze focused on Praxis, that nothing of a smile he loved so well showing around the fall of his bangs. Captivated by Deimos’ half-smile, Praxis found it easy to ignore Cain’s brash chattering through breakfast. 

Once finished eating what the biovat had labeled oatmeal, the three fighters fed their empty trays into the loading belt for the sanitizer. Praxis briefly caught sight of Ethos and waved, but the navigator’s face was still buried in his tablet. Praxis followed Deimos and Cain to the briefing room where Encke waited with their PT orders for the day. 

* * *

**Report to the Lead Fighter, go to CHAPTER 30**


	46. Chapter 46

Praxis steeled his nerves as he ascended the latter toward the Reliant’s cockpit. He’d just ask Abel about Ethos then leave, maybe apologize first for the interruption. No doubt they were engaged in a systems test. Perhaps they were having a private conversation, but they were absolutely not doing what he feared. 

He hesitated only briefly before bringing his knuckles down on the sleek curving hatch. Softly at first, then rapidly with drumming impatience. A whistling hiss came from the latching mechanism as the hatch lifted. Praxis pulled his hand away before he could get knocked off balance by the hatch opening. 

Cain’s snarling bark snapped, “What do you want?” even before the hatch was fully open. “Get lost, we’re busy!”

Busy indeed, and in all the ways Praxis feared. Abel’s jacket was missing, Cain’s pants were unfastened and halfway off hips, the two of them were occupying the same seat, Abel was simultaneously trying to cover his face and his body, Praxis wished for death. 

“Nothing!” he yelped. “Nothing, bye!” Praxis forgot how ladders worked. He nearly fell the full length to the hanger bay floor rather than climb down properly. Perhaps doing so would obliterate this from his memory. 

Above him, the hatch slid closed again amidst Abel’s plaintive, good natured complaints. “Cain, was that really necessary? You shouldn’t have--”

Praxis got his feet on solid ground, and he all but ran back to the safety of the Tiberius. Whatever Abel may or may not know about Ethos, it wasn’t worth all this. He threw himself into working on the ship in hopes of forgetting what he’d seen. 

Frenetic desperation drove him to work well later than most the other teams in the hanger. His stomach grumbled displeased demands as he packed everything away and closed up the underside panels. Across the hanger he saw Phobos and Deimos quitting their ship work as well, but he’d need to hurry if he wanted to catch up with either of them. 

* * *

**Leave the hanger bay, go to CHAPTER 25**


	47. Chapter 47

Helios settled his navigator to the floor. “Selene, this is Ethos! I found him!”

Selene smoothed at his hair to ruffle it back into place, all but a cowlick uptick in the back that defied his efforts. “You did?”

“Hello,” Ethos said, sounding a touch nervous. “Um, why have you been looking for me…?”

“Because you asked us to,” Selene said. “We picked up your distress signal.” 

“My _what?_ ”

“I found it!” Helios snatched something up from the corridor floor. When he brought it over, Praxis saw it was a thick bracelet with several slowly-blinking colors. Helios pushed up his uniform sleeve to secure the metal band around his wrist. 

Selene turned his head to take in the empty section of corridor around them. “I don’t know how much longer I can maintain the connection. We need to find the way out. Helios, do you know which machine this is?”

Helios looked down at the conundrum of blinking lights on his wrist. “I think machine six.”

Selene peeled off a glove on his flight suit and rolled up his sleeve to reveal a similar wristband. “I think you’re right.” He lifted his head to look directly at Ethos. “You should have a code. On your tablet, a Colteron code.”

Ethos’ eyes widened slightly. “How did you know about…?”

“You told me, in your message. I’ll explain everything when we’re out,” Selene said. “Just, do you have the code?”

“I do.” Ethos swiped on his tablet and then held it out to show Selene. “I can’t make sense of it, though. I’m pretty sure I worked the cipher correctly, but it still doesn’t make sense.”

Selene peered at the screen. His eyes scanned quickly over the text. Praxis leaned over to look as well, but if it didn’t make sense to Ethos then he wasn’t sure what good his input would be. 

“Perfect,” said Selene. “We’ve definitely found the right version of you.”

Ethos and Praxis spoke almost in unison. “The right _what?_ ”

Selene smiled and slid his glove back into place. “I’ll explain everything once we’re out. Machine six, Helios. Got it?”

“Got it!” Helios grinned -- and then was gone. 

Praxis turned his head to bring his blind side into view to confirm. There was no sign of the other fighter, he’d vanished just as mysteriously as he’d appeared. Then as Praxis watched, Selene vanished as well a moment later. Praxis turned to look at Ethos, but there was nothing. 

* * *

**[TO BE CONTINUED]**


End file.
